


As She Says

by Ningikuga



Category: That Guy with the Glasses/Channel Awesome
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3829300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ningikuga/pseuds/Ningikuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At least the Nostalgia Chick has one guy around who takes directions well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As She Says

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the TGWTG kinkmeme on LJ, for the prompt "BDSM with dom!Chick and sub!Oan, please? Preferably consensual, but whatever strikes your fancy, anon." Probably sillier than the prompter wanted, alas.
> 
> This work is intended to depict characters/personae, not real people, and no implications about the people who write and play those characters are intended or should be inferred.

She strode into the room, boot heels clicking quite snappily on the floor, right up until she hit the carpet. "Off the couch, and strip," she ordered.

Oancitizen looked over the top of his copy of _Screw The Roses, Send Me The Thorns_ and sighed. "Isn't it customary to negotiate the content of the scene before we start?"

"Who has time for that?" the Chick growled. "Are you gonna play or not?"

"I'd just prefer for us to be a little more organized than your freeform power-play with the Critic, honestly," Oan said, hunting for a bookmark and setting the book aside.

She snorted. "Just for that, your safeword is 'M. Bison'. Now get that suit off before I go get a knife and cut it off of you."

"Yes, mistress," he squeaked, fumbling with the buttons.

"Oh, crap, I forgot the key to - I mean, give me your tie and hold out your hands, bitch," she barked. He scooped the tie from the neat pile on the couch and handed it over. She wrapped it around his wrists, frowned at it, undid one of the loops and retied it, then dragged him impatiently into the next room, shoved him onto the bed, and started to knot the other end around the bedpost.

"Did you want me face-up or face-down, mistress?" Oan asked.

"I don't remember telling you that you could talk," the Chick growled. "But face-up." He rolled over, and she finished the knot.

Raising an eyebrow, Oan scooted towards the bedpost and exaggeratedly reached for the knot. The Chick scowled and smacked his hand with the riding crop she'd been unhooking from her garter belt; Oan yelped and snatched his hands back as far as the tie would let him.

"Honestly, you'd think one of you guys could just take it gracefully," she muttered as she gave him another sharp smack on the other hand.

"Thank you, mistress," he replied. His cheeks were starting to flush; that wasn't exactly where she wanted the capillaries dilating, but it was a decent start. Good thing he wore the suit on camera; it covered up just about everywhere she might leave a welt.

She got to work in earnest as he squirmed and writhed under the crop, his eyes turning glassy as he thanked her for every blow, in about six different languages. She strongly suspected one of them was Klingon.

"Good boy," she purred as his skin took on that nice, rosy glow. "Yeah, you're funny, Oan, but you're also sexy when you hurt."


End file.
